Þistil, mistil, kistil: Plants of Death, Rebirth, and Magic in Medieval Scandinavian Runic Inscriptions

Abstract

The þistil mistil kistil inscription and its variants is one of the most cryptic magic runic inscriptions in the Old Norse corpus.1 Despite its having been researched by various scholars, its meaning, uses, and purposes are still largely unknown. In its original form, as illustrated on the Gørlev stone, the first two words that figure are the popular plants “thistle” (Þistil) and “mistletoe” (mistilteinn). Plant-related formulas are not uncommon in the runic corpus, such as lina laukar alu (“flax/linen, leek, ale”)2 found in the Fløksand knife (Spurkland 2005, 46; MacLeod and Mees 2006, 103) and were believed to have magic properties and aid in childbirth (MacLeod and Mees 2006, 102; Heizmann 1992, 374–6). This theory has been put forward because leeks and linen are known to have been used as ingredients to heal and revive in Old Norse and Anglo-Saxon records.3However, the rhyming thistle-mistletoe formula is far more puzzling, in part due to its peculiar arrangement. As it is found in the Gørlev (DR 239) and Ledberg (Ög 181) runestones, the runes are arranged as follows: þmk iii sss ttt iii lll. The enigma works by taking one of the first three letters and attaching it to the rest using one of the following five letter-groups, for example, þ+i+s+t+i+l. Variations on this formula are to be witnessed over the centuries, with “full” as well as “abbreviated” versions, in many different locations, including memorial stones, churches, and even in the three Icelandic manuscripts of Bósa saga ok Herrauðs.4 In total, there are around eleven or twelve cases of similar inscriptions5 across all of Scandinavia ranging from the fifth to the fifteenth century.A recurring concept regarding the formula is that it is somehow magic. There are several theories about the use of this formula, which I shall scrutinize in this paper, and I shall argue that, much like linen-leek, the thistle-mistletoe formula was also used to aid pregnant women in giving birth. In the first section of this paper, I present the various different runic inscriptions that include the “-istil” formula along with a brief overview of each for context. I then move on to explore the various meanings and properties of the thistle and mistletoe in Old Norse literature and folklore, and finally, I contemplate the different theories presented by scholars and introduce other pieces of evidence, including Anglo-Saxon herbal remedies and practices for comparison.The runes are understood to be related to magic because of their association with the gods, especially with Óðinn, the father of magic (galdrs foður) (Baldrs draumar1954, line 3), who allegedly gained knowledge of the runes by sacrificing himself to himself (Hávamál1949, line 138). In the sagas, runes are seen to be used for magic purposes, such as by Egill in Egills saga Skallagrímssonar, who heals an ill Swedish girl by correcting the misapplied runes that have caused her sickness. Our formula, too, appears in a contemporary Icelandic saga. Its unusual “unbound” arrangement is used as a riddle in Busla's curse for King Hring in Bósa saga (see Appendix, fig. 9). Busla comes to King Hring and tries a number of different ploys to get him to release her stepson Bósi from his death sentence, but it is only when she begins to recite the Syrpuvers (Syrpa Verses), which “contains the most powerful magic, and which no one is allowed to recite after nightfall” (Bósa saga1950), that she accomplishes her goal. However, the manuscripts only include one stanza, presumably because the magic is too powerful to write down on paper. Busla then tells the king that if he is not able to decipher the names correctly by “unbounding” them, then all her worst curses will take effect on him, unless he does her will. These are the “names” she gives the King: r o þ k m u iiiiiii ssssss ttttttt iiiiiii lllllll“ristill,” “oistill,” “þistill,” “kistill,” “mistill,” “uistill”In this excerpt, the formula very clearly plays an important role as part of an evil magic spell, even if we are only given a short extract of the whole curse, on account of the strength of its magic. Its role in earlier examples is less clear. The first extant example of the formula is traditionally believed to be that of the ninth-century stone of Gørlev, Denmark (fig. 1), where the formula reads þmkiiissstttiiilll (þistil mistil kistil, “thistle, mistletoe, casket”), followed by the Ledberg Stone from AD 1000 Sweden (fig. 2), with the exact same inscription. Both of these are memorial stones that follow the conventional structure of X raised this stone in memory of Y, but the Ledberg stone also includes a large illustration of a helmeted man, interpreted as Óðinn, together with a four-legged beast, thought to be the wolf Fenrir, both fighting at Ragnarök (Kallström 2016, 269).Recent studies have pointed out that there may even be an earlier version of the formula, albeit in an abbreviated form, found in the By stone in Norway (fig. 11), dating back to the fifth century (Kusmenko 2017). Below the inscription on the By stone, these runes can be read: RmQz. Although Bugge interpreted these as meaning “runoR markide þar Ehar” (Bugge and Olsen 1903 [NIÆR], I:112) (“Ehar marked these runes”), Jurij Kusmenko has more recently advanced an argument that these runes may, in fact, stand for “ristil,” “mistil,” “þistil,” and the last rune, “īwaR” (Old Norse ýr), symbolically represents the “yew” (Kusmenko 2017, 255). There are various other inscriptions that have been connected with the original formula we see in Gørlev and Ledberg, including the IK 70 Halsskov Overdrev-C bracteate (fig. 12), which reads þm. It has been suggested that these runes may stand for þistil and mistil (Axboe 1985, 129),6 but this rendering has remained obscure. The Vedslet amulet (fig. 13) is more similar to the Gørlev and Ledberg stones, as its first three runes are þmk, just like theirs. However, the Roman A in the inscription suggests that this example must be no earlier than the twelfth century, since it is only from this century onward that Roman-script initials in runic inscriptions or runes in Latin script emerge (Kusmenko 2017, 253). The entire inscription, which reads Þmkrhli | iklmrþh | A?hþa, includes an extra letter, r, ristil, and is followed by hli, which Kusmenko renders as the Proto Norse word for “protection” (Kusmenko 2017, 253), (Old Norse lé). We then encounter the same characters, only rearranged. Elsewhere, Kusmenko makes a fleeting connection to another related inscription found in Klukowiczi, Poland, the bracteate D163, where a graffito reads þmkr (Düwel and Kusmenko 2013, 347).The other two abbreviated inscriptions are to be found in the churches of Eidsborg (fig. 10) and Bratsberg (fig. 14). The Eidsborg inscription (c. AD 1250) is perhaps the least similar of all the examples given here. It reads llllliiiiifuþork. The five l-runes and i-runes and the presence of futhark, reminiscent of the Gørlev and Lomen (discussed below), led Olsen to include it in the “-istil” list (Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:163). However, other runic inscriptions with repeated l's, such as the Gjersvik runic message, have been interpreted as abbreviated formulas of lina laukaR, which are connected to fertility charms (MacLeod and Mees 2006, 104). The Bratsberg inscription, from around AD 1100 (Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:185), is weathered and is hard to read, but Aslak Liestøl claimed to read a þ-rune with two extra staves and the m-rune with five extra staves (Liestøl 1964), preceded by three l-runes. Presumably then, this inscription would be transliterated as lllþþþmmmm. Although I am not entirely persuaded that there is a quintupled m-rune, the l's and þ’s are clear. However, I can only see four l-runes. Michael Schulte has recently added two more potential abbreviated thistle-mistletoe inscriptions from the Randlev kirke in Denmark (fig. 15). Randlev kirke I reads, Þisma[s]sm] r, which Schulte tentatively interprets as þistil mistil (Schulte 2021, 105). The second inscription in the church, similarly, reads, þisma[. . .]gesmis.The other church inscriptions, which are in full, are no less cryptic. The Lomen inscription (fig. 5), dating from around 1200 (Olsen 1941 [NIYR], I:216), tr:p:k:iii:sss:ttt:iii:lll (“tristil,” “pistil,” “kistil”), is intriguing because it mentions two new words, “pistil” and “tristil” (Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:155), and does not mention the thistle or the mistletoe. Magnus Olsen originally interpreted the initial bindrune tr as the first two letters of trottin (Lord) (Olsen and Liestøl 1957 [NIYR], IV:176), whereas McKinnell and Simek read it as an abbreviation of þristill (trinity) (McKinnell and Simek 2004, 136). I would like to contemplate the idea that perhaps the t and r in tristil were meant to be read separately but were bound to save time and space. This interpretation would allow for this reading: tistil, ristil, pistil, kistil, very similar to the aforementioned Klukowiczi D 163 and Vedslet bracteates.By the early 1200s, it is clear that the formula has diverged significantly, bearing completely different words, with the exception of kistil (see Appendix), and there may be various reasons for this, including linguistic change, and the embracing of a new faith, Christianity. For instance, Kusmenko argues that, by the twelfth century, the phonetics of the Old Norse language had changed so that the old þ was pronounced t, thus suggesting that tistil is, in fact, an alternative spelling of þistil (Kusmenko 2017, 245–6). Other linguists have concluded that this change took place in the fourteenth century (Schulte 2005, 1085; Mørck 2013, 410); however, this does not account for linguistic divergences between different dialects. Indeed, Nore II (fig. 3), another early 1200 inscription, ltlsssiiikutramsstltttll, does not name þistil either, including tistil instead. This inscription, possibly the most cryptic of the “-istil” formulas, is read by splitting the inscription in half and reading the first three letters kut from right to left, and the latter three ram from left to right. However, the number of i, s, t, and l's does not match the number of initial letters. As with Lomen, Olsen contemplates that the tr could stand for trottin and claims that ku could be an abbreviated form for kuþ (O.N. Guð), “God” (Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:155). Contrary to Lomen and Nore, Borgund's message reads tistilmistilok-nþiriþiþistil (“tistil mistil ok hinn þriði þistil”; fig. 4, N 364), which includes the original þistil word, but this may be a specific dialect. Liestøl has noted that tistil might be related to the verb tísta, “twitter, squeak” (Liestøl 1964, 19). Borgund is the only inscription where the formula is not written in “riddle-form,” perhaps pointing that the formula was also known orally and was adapted to fit a new environment. There is another very similar inscription at Borgund that reads tistilsmisoh<h>nþrl(e)—(fig. 4, N 365), which may be a first and erroneous attempt at carving the former inscription.Amongst all the inscriptions, there are two runesticks contemporary with each other; Tønsberg (fig. 8) and Bergen Bryggen (fig. 6). The Bergen runestick bears the longest formula: mtpkgbiiiiiiissssssstttttttiiiiiiilllllll (mistil tistil pistil kistil ristil gistil bistil). The four-sided Tønsberg runestick is more complex. It has seemingly arbitrary messages on all sides, and Gosling recognized three or four different hands, concluding that this may have been a tool used by students to learn runes (Gosling 1989, 181). The formula here reads mrthkiiiiissssstttttiiiiilllll mistil, ristil, tistil, histil, kistil.Another inscription that is similar to Nore II in its reading and may possibly be connected is that of Oseberg, dating around AD 800 (fig. 7). Even though it has traditionally been interpreted by Sophus Bugge as lítil-víss maðr (Bugge quoted in Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:164), Olsen claims that if the runes are arranged in a different order, one can read “mistil” (Olsen 1951 [NIYR], II:165).With all of these changes and variations, it may be useful to have a look at the recurrence of each word across the inscriptions. Perhaps their recurrence may determine how significant they are to the formula overall. This is shown in the chart.As shown (see chart), the most common words are mistil (mistletoe), but kistil (small box) is a close second, followed by þistil (thistle). If we allow for tistil to be an early variant of þistil, then mistil and þistil have approximately the same number of mentions, drawing even at around twelve. It can therefore be concluded that these are the three most important words in the formula, even if we take þistil and tistil to be different words, since they both have a significant number of mentions. However, it has generally been accepted that the rest of the words are “fillers” that simply rhyme with the main words, potentially to enhance the “magic” of the formula (Thompson 1978, 54). This possibly works as an equivalent to the modern “abracradabra” or “hocus pocus,” but it must be acknowledged that most of the “filler” words have actual meanings. Identifying these may clarify individual inscriptions.A notably persisting word is ristil(l), with a large number of possible meanings: (“ploughshare,” “gentlewoman,” “shingles,” or “ringworm”). However, the suffix -il is often used to substantivize verbs (just as tísta as seen above), and thus ristil could be a substantivized form of rísta (“to cut” or “to scratch”), meaning “carving,” or “carver.” These two words may be significant, as magic runic formulas always needed a carver to inscribe the message, but also many charms or curses need to be chanted (Singer 1958, 151). Perhaps tistil, “to twitter,” was as close as they could get to describing chanting with a word that rhymed in order to avoid compromising the rhythmic and rhyming nature of the formula and its magic power.The other words have the following plausible meanings: Bistil (possibly related to bistr [angry]?) (Schulte 2021, 111)Gistil (possibly related to gista [to lodge, pass the night]?) (Kusmenko 2017, 250)Pistil (epistle)Histil (possibly related to the Latin word historia [history]?)Tristil (trinity)Aistil/Oistil (east)7Uistil (west; stay; food/lunch)8The addition of “east” and “west” in Bósa saga may be attributed to the rising and setting sun, which adds significance to the magic curse, as it is not supposed to be recited after sunset. Tristil and pistil may have Christian connotations, appropriately placed in the Christian Lomen church. These adaptations may have been a way to bring together pagan practices with Christian ones. Depending on the context of each inscription, more or fewer words were added; however, these have not all been convincingly deciphered, namely, bistil, gistil, and histil.9Bistil and gistil have caused much bewilderment and are often dismissed as insignificant filler words. Attempts have been made at interpreting them, but none have been universally embraced. Aslak Liestøl's suggestion of bestill and gestill as two nicknames (Liestøl 1964, 19) was waived by Thompson, who pointed out that such interpretation would ruin the rhyme of the formula (1978, 53). Kusmenko suggested that gistil could mean something like “little guest” or “lodger” (Kusmenko 2017, 250) and is joined by Schulte (2021, 111) in this interpretation. If this is the case, then there seems to be a pattern running across all of these unclear words: night-time. If oistil and uistil mark the setting of the sun, which is exactly when Busla visits the king, who is already in bed; the comments on the Tønsberg runestick telling of people sleeping together (fig. 8); and a gistil spends the night, possibly in an inn of some sort—we do encounter a strong connection to the night. The significance of this will be discussed later on in this paper. Bistil, on the other hand, could be related to the angry curse performed by Busla, which is intent on harming the recipient of the curse (fig. 9).It is clear that the formula was tailored to each inscription and their context, and I would be wary of discarding the “filler words” as gibberish, as all of these words have clear, if not at least plausible, meanings and are not just mere made-up words. However, I still agree with the previous notion that these extra words were added to enhance the power of the spell and its key mistil, þistil, and kistil.In order to better understand the formula, one must first understand the role these plants—thistle and mistletoe—played throughout the centuries in the Nordic society. Plants often represent humans, life, and fertility in many different cultures and religions. The Nordic cosmology is portrayed by Yggdrasill, an ash tree, and the first two humans are Askr (ash) and Embla (elm).10 This connection is also found in the Old Norse sagas. For instance, in Harðars saga, Signy dreams of a large tree growing from her bed, with deep roots, but little blossom. Her foster mother interprets it as the birth of a strong son (Hörðr) with a bleak destiny. For her second pregnancy, she dreams of another tree growing from the bed; this time, the tree is in full blossom, and her foster-mother correctly interprets the birth of a pious Christian girl. The trunk of this tree is withered and represents Signy's death in childbirth (Cochrane 2007, 73). However, other types of flora also embody humans In Flóamanna saga, Þorgils ørrabeinstjúpr dreams that five hálmlaukar (“leeks,” “garlic,” maybe even “angelica”) (Cochrane 2007, 74) grow from his knee, symbolizing his five offspring, and even more stalks grow from these, representing further generations.The mistletoe (Viscum album) is a poisonous woody parasitic plant and one of the most mystical plants in the medieval world, even to some extent today. Pliny the Elder describes it as the Celts’ holy plants, especially when it grew on the oak tree (Bostock and Riley 1855, chap. 95). The Celts’ veneration for the mistletoe of the oak was well-known within and outside the Roman Empire, and thus it associated to the holiness of the oak (Rohde 1922, 30–1). Pliny mentions the plant being used for druid rituals and even calls the mistletoe omnia sanatem (all-healing), referring to its many uses to cure different ailments, including epilepsy and infertility (Bostock and Riley 1855, chap. 95). The belief that the plant cures these two conditions still persists in certain parts of Scandinavia, where home remedies are made out of mistletoe (Brøndegaard 1979–1980, 3:322). Apart from medical uses, the mistletoe was used as a protective plant (Kusmenko 2017, 247) to keep demons, magic, and bad weather away. In fact, some modern folkloric German names for the mistletoe are Donnerbesen “thunderbrush” and Hexenbesen “witchcraft-broom” (Kusmenko 2017, 247).Nonetheless, the mistletoe has a completely different meaning in the Old Norse literary corpus, where rather than a healing plant, it is presented as an instrument of death in one of the most famous Icelandic tales: The Death of Baldr. It is not uncommon for plants to have various, often juxtaposing, significances and uses within communities. One such plant is Angelica archangelica, which symbolizes fertility in Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks (Teixidor-Toneu, Kjesrud, and Kool 2020, 297) and represents life in Harðars saga, yet simultaneously acts as a symbol of a loveless marriage in Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar (Tómasson 1984) as well as tool to punish a man who did not want to be baptized (Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar2001, 131).11 In the Prose Edda, we are told that Óðinn's son Baldr is killed with a spear made of mistletoe thrown by his own blind brother Höðr. The story recounts that Baldr is one of the most beautiful and beloved of the Æsir, so his mother Frigg travels all around the world asking every single living thing to swear that they will never harm her son. Having accomplished her goal, she accidentally reveals to Loki, who is pretending to be Frigg's maid, that the only thing she did not ask was a “woody sprout” (viðarteinungr) growing west of Valhöll, which she believed to be too young to swear an oath (“Edda” 2005, 45). Loki then tricks Baldr's brother Höðr into throwing a spear made of mistletoe at Baldr, which kills him.The most intriguing aspect of this story is that it refers to the mistletoe as a “woody sprout,” or, as translated by the Cleasby-Vigfusson dictionary, “a withy twig” (Icelandic-English Dictionary, s.v. “viðarteinungr”), which sounds like a willow tree rather than a plant. A couple of verses in Völuspá also imply that the mistletoe is a tree: “stóð of vaxinn völlum hæri mjór ok mjök fagr mistilteinn” (Völuspá1949, st. 31). It is possible that this verse may be describing the mistletoe wrapping itself around a treetop, but the description is too vague to be certain. It is also plausible that, as a poem counting with a limited number of syllables per verse and containing alliteration, the words were rearranged in Völuspá; perhaps what the story means to say is something along the lines of “the young plant that grows around the tree.” It has been asserted that this “mistake” was made by Icelanders because there is no mistletoe in Iceland, and therefore, the poet was unable to provide an accurate description (von Tubeuf 1923, 22).Nevertheless, this conclusion is an overstatement, given that back when Iceland was settled, trees did, in fact, grow, and there are mentions of various woodlands in “Ölkofra þattr,”12 with historical ecology research proving that mass deforestation occurred when human beings arrived, as the result of domestic animals grazing and construction materials being taken from the woodland (Fridriksson 1972). Birch tree (Betula pubescens) is the most widespread species in Iceland today, although associated species can also be found, namely, the aforementioned willow (Salix spp.) (Aradóttir 2007, 68), the rowan (Sorbus aucuparia) and, more rarely, the aspen (Populus tremula) (Bragason 1995). Mistletoe grows easily and naturally on all of these trees (Büssing 2000). This does not necessarily mean that mistletoe grew in Iceland at the time of the invasion, but it certainly is a possibility. However, Icelandic writers were still capable of writing about things not native to Iceland, as seen by the prominent roles played by wolves and werewolves in, for example, Völsunga saga. This may all point to earlier versions of Germanic tales originally created in mainland Scandinavia and Europe, where mistletoe and wolves are abundant, or alternatively, these elements emerge in the sagas simply because they were so rare in Scandinavia, and therefore became two exciting concepts to play with in the literature.It is possible that Britain, a land abundant with mistletoe, was where the Icelanders became acquainted with the mistletoe, as linguistic analysis has advanced that the word mistilteinn is a borrowing from the Old English misteltān (Rooth 1964), although the origin of the word comes with complications. Anthony Liberman suggests that “close cognates hint that this happened at the time of intense Scandinavian-British contacts” (Liberman 2004, 29),13 possibly referring to the Norse raids on Britain from the eighth century or the reign of Cnut the Great in the first half of the eleventh century, though he does not specify any period. However, as we have seen on the runestones, this word must have made its way to Scandinavia much earlier—or have a common Proto-Germanic root. Indeed, Michael Schulte advocates for the original form of mistil to be *míhstela from the Proto-Germanic root *míhs (“dung” or “sticky liquid” or “sticky sap”) (Schulte 2021, 110), possibly referring to the consistency of the juice of the mistletoe. Regardless of what the case is, it is noteworthy that various sword-names end in -teinn, such as Lævateinn, by which only Vithofnir could be killed (MacCulloch 1930, 136). More importantly, in Hrómundar saga Gripssonar, “mistilteinn” is the name of the sword the hero uses to save the French princess. In Saxo Grammaticus's version of Baldr's Death, Hoderus kills Balderus with a sword, not a mistletoe spear.The Finnish “Death of Lemminkäinen” in the Kalevala, another story that shares many parallels with Baldr's Death, may shed some light on the matter. Although this folktale was compiled by Elias Lönnroth in the early nineteenth century, and the first book was published in 1835—six centuries after Gesta Danorum and the Prose Edda—it bears striking resemblances to the Death of Baldr. Lemminkäinen, a beautiful man, is killed by a blind man who summons a snake to bite him. His mother goes to every living thing in the universe, asking where her son is and how she can resurrect him, much like Frigg, only this time after her son's death.14 In Runo 15, much like Baldr in Völuspa, Lemminkäinen is resurrected, but it is notable that a snake is what kills Lemminkäinen, as snakes are a common kenning for swords (Brunning 2015, 56).15 This could suggest that the murder weapon is originally a sword. However, a rare plant (mistletoe) with a name that sounds like a sword must have been of particular interest to the Icelanders, sparking their imagination and eventually resulting in the use of the mistletoe as the murder weapon for the Icelandic Baldr. Death by a plant, indeed a common motif in European literature. Sophus Bugge pointed out the parallels in the Jewish Toledoth Yeshua, in which Judas takes a large cabbage stem from his garden to hang Jesus because all wood had sworn not to harm him (Bugge quoted in von Tubeuf 1923, 23). Similarly, King Víkarr is killed by a reed that magically turns into a spear in Gautreks saga, reminiscent of Baldr's death.All these plants are, at first sight, harmless, yet they are all used as weapons to kill an exalted character in the stories. Liberman argues that the reed was probably originally used to kill Baldr, but for some unknown reason, it was changed for the mistletoe (Liberman 2004, 27). This reason, I believe, is at least in part due to the poisonous properties of the mistletoe. It is fairly common to see poisonous plants being used as weapons, such as the yew, another evergreen toxic plant, with which bows were made as early as 2600 BC (Elliott 1957). Similarly, Lebor Gabála Érenn (The Book of Invasions), an Old Irish compilation of poems and narratives extant in various manuscripts, the earliest of which dates to the eleventh century, Lugh's spear, Gáe Assail, is made of yew and is certain to kill its victim if the word ibar “yew” is voiced (Lebor Gabála Érenn1941, 137). The toxic nature of the plants symbolically represented the presage of death. As a parasitic plant, the mistletoe has also been proven to negatively impact its host trees’ growth, thus making it a dangerous plant to both humans and trees (Noetzli, Müller, and Sieber 2003, 779). Moreover, the perennial nature of the mistletoe (and the yew too) “represents the negation of winter and of the attendant death in nature” (Molenaar 1982, 38). When the mistletoe, the evergreen plant, is turned into a weapon, it symbolizes both life and death. The mistletoe spear embodies a coin with two opposite but inextricably linked sides.“Thistle” is an umbrella term that applies to many different plants from different genera, most of which belong to the Asteraceae family.16 Like the mistletoe, the thistle is another apotropaic plant that protects against angry spirits, bad luck, and accidents. It is also known to protect from fire and bad weather, which Kusmenko believes is due to its associations with the mistletoe (Kusmenko 2017, 248). It is also used medicinally against arthritis, asthma, abscesses on the backside, and as an anesthetic on teeth (Brøndegaard 1978–1980, 4:248). Two Icelandic medical manuscripts; one from 138717 and another from the early sixteenth century,18 recommend the application of crushed thistle on pieces of iron stuck in the body.19 Wilhelm Heizmann presents an example where the thistle acts as a defensive mechanism in the sixteenth-century Icelandic Svart Konstbok (Book of the Black Arts): Ef þu uillt ad madur rati eij a bæ þinn Rijst þenan staf A reiner trie þa sol er i hadeigis stad og gack þrisar riett sælis og þrisuar Rang-sælis i kringum bæ þinn og hallt a reinerz sprotanum sem stafurinn er a ristur Og huass broddudu þyrni grase og legg suo huortueggia uppa midia bæg a dyra bust þina. (Heizmann 1996, 98)(If you do not want anyone to come to your courtyard, carve this sign [illustration in original text] in rowan wood when the sun is at its highest and walk three times in the direction of the sun around your courtyard and hold the rowan branch on which the sign is carved and “thorn grass” with sharp tips and then place both on the crossing point of the table boards.)Although it has been noted that the “thorn grass” here may not necessarily be referring to thistles, but to silverthorn or to holly, “thorn grass” probably refers to any sort of prickly flower; “thistles and all kinds of thorn bushes in general are in used as a defensive function, especially against harm and demons” (Heizmann 1996, 98).20 This belief was still widespread all across Eurasia in the nineteenth century; in the Magdeburg area of Germany, thistle bushes were left in the flax and grain fields to protect against witches (Wegener 1881, quoted in Heizmann 1996, 99). Similarly, in the areas of Silesia and Franconia, the head of a thistle was hung on the ceiling to drive witches away (Wuttke 1869, 252). Although these German customs are perhaps too modern to assume a relationship to the Icelandic plant-lore, they bear a striking similarity to the ritual presented in the Icelandic Konstbok, perhaps hinting at a common Germanic plant-lore.Like the mistletoe, the thistle does not have the best reputation in the Old Norse literature. The best-known text where the thistle is mentioned is found in the eddic poem Skírnismál, which